


come home to my heart

by clemjuu (orphan_account)



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, albert is mentioned a fair bit, gross fluff, he doesn’t appear but I love him so much so he deserves a tag, love is stored in the reenharoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22106695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/clemjuu
Summary: the quiet after the races, the spaces between
Relationships: Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	come home to my heart

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from Supercut by Lorde, which doesn’t fit the tone of this fic at all but that line in particular really just!!!!HNNGG. cosy!!!!
> 
> whilst writing this, I listened to a mixture of Einaudi and Anna Calvi – particularly Swimming Pool, which is a lovely (rh) song. seriously, go listen.
> 
> this was immensely fun to write, and it’s not the most plot-heavy, but in my defence something like that is in the works so!!!! lemme live, have some fluff :3

“Sorry for the trouble, Haru, it’s just for tonight,” Rin says.

  
  
  


Haruka withdraws his key from the door, nudging it ajar with his foot. “It’s no problem, Rin.” 

  
  
  


Rin hadn’t really seen Haruka’s apartment until now - but, dear God, does he see it. The way it’s bathed in sunset - ethereally detached from its usual bare state - the way Rin suddenly feels detached. Miles stretch between Rin’s post-competition sliders and the threshold.   
  


  
  


It’s one touch from Haruka that grounds him. Fingers encircle his wrist, and Rin’s eyes are pulled up to some concerned gaze. The air is balmy. Haruka pulls him inside.

  
  
  


“Rin,” Haruka pulls the door shut, “do you want to order food?”

  
  
  


“Nah, I’m good for now,” Rin says, kicking his sliders into the lower shelf of the shoe rack. “But thank you, Haru.”

  
  
  


Another silence. Rin notes the glass windows that draw out misty rectangles on the wood of the apartment floor, and the gold that drips off the edges of the familiar Japanese furniture set. The kitchen is small, but seemingly well equipped - a spice rack stands with confidence between a decent stove and a shining sink demonstrative of Haruka’s affinity for tidiness. There’s then the loft bed. Narrow and uncompromising. 

  
  
  


“Rin?” 

  
  
“Sorry, Haru, I just--”

  
  
  


The floor shifts. The light aches. Rin feels a gentle pressure on the plateau between shoulder and neck - it’s none other than Haruka’s chin. Hands fall loosely around his belly before clasping together. Something tugs at Rin’s heart, or something tugs at the hem of Rin’s shirt. The air stills.

  
  
  


Something bursts inside Rin. He places his hands over Haruka’s, fingertips flirting with the sharpness of bony knuckles. 

  
  
  


“You were so good today,” Haruka murmurs. It’s more of a rumble, where his mouth is on Rin’s skin. The kind that precedes a landslide.

  
  
  
  


“Rin, you were incredible. The water … it loves you.” 

  
  
  


As Haruka says this, he lifts his head, and Rin feels the tip of his nose shift against his ear. They face the same ocean of light, commanded into lanes by Haruka’s big windows. 

  
  
  


“Haru…” Rin breathes out, like he’s gasping for air. Something snaps within him – perhaps akin to the band of his goggles leaping from his head when he tears them off in the throes of his victory, crying out, gasping for air —

  
  
  


—ah. 


  
  
  


Haruka moves past Rin, then, situating himself so they are toe-to-toe. Haruka looks up at Rin. Rin, who is all the light of a city, standing before Haruka’s smudge of window at full brilliance. 

  
  
  


A moment coasts by, and Haruka’s hand moves to Rin’s forearm, where it is bare and warm. Rin smiles sheepishly, though still comfortable under Haruka’s gaze, before stepping forward, pushing aside the space between them, tucking him into his chest. 

  
  
  


“It’s okay, Rin,” Haruka says, out of nowhere, “you’re good. We’re good. But, also, I’m…”

  
  
  


Haruka pushes back, holding Rin an arm’s length away with gentle hands on his shoulders. “...really, really hungry.”

  
  
  


—

  
  
  
  


After Haruka’s nursed the plates back to cleanliness, he joins Rin, who lays sprawled out, firing off texts. He rolls onto his side, kicking his shin – in response, Rin puts his phone down, and looks at the floor where it is but a strip between them. 

  
  
  


“Did you enjoy dinner, Rin?” Haruka says, closing his eyes. 

  
  
  


“It was … actually really good. Where’d you hear about this place, Haru?”

  
  
  


Smiling, Haruka reaches across to fix Rin’s collar, letting his hand fall near his chest. “You know Wåhlander? He has good taste in mackerel. And other places, too. We’ve been texting.”

  
  
  


“Fraternising with the enemy, Haru? Pfft, that’s low,” Rin lets his words drain into giggles, playfully swatting at his friend’s shoulder. 

  
  
  


“Shut up, idiot. I’m allowed. He’s just … really cool. And he knows good places to eat around here – better than I do, for someone who doesn’t even live in the country.”

  
  
  


“Besides, Rin,” Haru murmurs, “ _ you’re _ my rival. My Rin.”

  
  
  


Rin makes a noise. It’s comical as hell. It’s  _ Rin _ as hell. And Haruka responds by bringing his hand to Rin’s cheek, letting it rest there. 

  
  
  


He looks down. “Is this okay?”

  
  
  


Rin nods, eyes wide. Nods, once, then meets Haruka’s eyes. “Yeah. You know, if you want, you can–”

  
  
  


“I know,” Haruka says, with a touch of amusement, and he’s already moving closer, nuzzling Rin’s neck. “Thank you, Rin.”

  
  
  


Rin presses Haruka into him, rubs his back, shivers when his hand slips from his cheek to the back of his head, where no inch of his sensitive scalp is left unscratched. He lets his guard collapse, allows himself to hum into Haruka’s hair, and commit the scent of his conditioner to memory. 

  
  
  


“Riiin,” Haruka whines, kicking his shins again.

  
  
  


“What now? Let me guess – this is all part of another strategy to beat your opponents, huh? You’re pulling a Wåhlander on me?”

  
  
  


Haruka stills his hand. “Shut up, or I’ll stop.”

  
  
  


“Fine.”

  
  
  


Haruka resumes his gentle movement around Rin’s head. “I’m aching a lot from earlier. Can we sleep on the mattress, tonight?”

  
  
  


Rin notes the ‘we’ – he’s thrilled by this in all the ways he used to think he shouldn’t be, before Haruka’s gentle touch unravelled any remaining doubt. Comfort between them did not come easy – like anything worth having. Both of them know that this is the fruit of distance, the abrasion of years of silence, learning how to spell the words that were left unsaid.

  
  
  


So Rin hugs Haruka closer, humming out an affirmative. 

  
  
  


The moment speaks for itself. 

  
  
  


—

  
  
  


They’re in bed. Rin laughs, guffaws, at one of Haruka’s recollections of high school, before settling into silence. 

  
  
  


“You know, Haru…”

  
  
  


Haruka lifts his head – it’s on Rin’s chest. “Hm?”

  
  
  


“You’re wrong about the rival thing.”

  
  
  


Haruka scoffs, sits up. “For the last time, Rin, me and Al are genuine friends, and–”

  
  
  


Rin laughs, louder this time: “ _ Nononononono,  _ listen, Haru,  _ oh my god _ – I mean. You know. We’re…”

  
  
  


The pillow dips where Haruka’s head falls next to Rin’s. He whispers, right in the hollow of his ear. “In need of sleep?”

  
  
  


“ _ No!  _ Well, yes, but also— we’re. We’re not rivals anymore, are we?”

  
  
  


A car drifts by, somewhere outside, coughing something bass-heavy into Tokyo’s backstreets. Haruka’s hand returns to Rin’s hair, and this time, it may well be a tactical move. He’s so tired, in ways that can’t be named. Unfathomably tired. 

  
  
  


“No. We’re teammates, Rin.” Rin’s face warms under the gaze Haruka offers, where his face is now hovering. 

  
  
  


“At least we will be, when we obliterate the finals on Friday.”

  
  
  


“Yeah,” Rin sighs, and his joy is unbridled. Unabashed. Beautiful. “Yeah. Haru.”

  
  
  


Haruka yawns, then fits that same, deft hand to Rin’s cheek – the other side, this time – and leans down, kissing the crease his smile makes ever so gently. Once. Twice. 

  
  
  


“ _ Haruka…”  _ Rin breathes, tripping up over his giggles.

  
  
  


“Rin,” Haru echoes. He’s all sleepy, all gorgeous, melting into the pillow like a lost chunk of dream. He does not take his eyes off of Rin, who wears the soft glow of poorly strung bedside fairy lights like a laurel. Rin, who laughs, shakes, tumbles – falls so effortlessly, naturally, dipping and flowing to whatever beat the Universe plays for him. 

  
  
  


“Rin, sleep.”

  
  
  


“I’ll try, okay? Goodnight, Haru.”

  
  
  


“Mm… night-night, Rinrin.”

  
  
  


—


End file.
